do not feed the aminals.

do not feed the aminals.
I keep waking up inside. golden lined lost left arm. waiting for everything to fall away.

happy Easter, today you are forbidden to wear sleeves or socks. 3.33, I took ’round the collection plate, convinced the world to empty their wallets into the buskers’ hats, yes, even the 4year olds. I secretly wish with utmost seriousity that a very close relative would die, soon. if I cannot tell if I am drunk I wait until i wake up the next morning and taste my own mouth. 111 kilometres away and the crows followed me just to caw their way into my dreams and wakefulness. she took firm hold of my head to look me long in the eye and ask what I had planned. “to hang out my laundry at 10pm,” i’d’ve said if I could see the future. instead: “did you cast a spell on me?” and later nearly falling asleep in the casino, pen in hand, band 5 metres away, my phone ringing every 10 minutes with no one on the other end. guess where i’ll be this time tomorrow? RIGHT HERE. I can safely say i’m sorry.. but you know what? I feel fine, i’m doing just fine.

“make me fall in love with you;” just call me Princesska, making eyes.

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O hey, hi my darling. I’m overocea & this is my journal. I’ve vowed to note my everyday inconsequence indefinitely, so that I can read it when I’m 80. I expect it to be hideously boring to anyone except an 80year old me.